


King Country

by Pencilcase



Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Original Work
Genre: Alien Sex, Aliens, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Badass Women, Bigotry & Prejudice, Brother-Sister Relationships, Bunkers, F/M, Guns, Jealousy, M/M, New Zealand, Protectiveness, Some super annoying characters for you to hate on, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-06-09 09:20:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6900232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pencilcase/pseuds/Pencilcase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Invaded by strange soldiers, the people of Coromandel, New Zealand flee to the forest-covered ranges. There they decide whether to fight or hide. Help may come from the strangest of places when one of the invaders turns coat. But can they trust him? Can they even accept him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sighting

King Country  
Chapter 1 - Viewing  
The cicadas were deafening. Each individual buoyed on by the skyrocketing temperature, joined to create a wall of noise. The sun was already nearing its zenith, where it would stay for much of the day. Describing a giant near full circle in the sky, before setting only a third of the way along the horizon. 

“They look like us, don’t you think?”  
The quiet query was almost drowned under the constant chainsawing of the cicadas.  
“Fuck no!” Brie wrinkled her pixy nose in disgust and re-adjusted the rifle against her shoulder.  
They were sprawled under the prickly shade of a scrubby manuka on the edge of the bush. Yellow clay dust and tiny brown manuka leaves caked their forearms and sweat stung the scratches that criss crossed their hands and faces. Surrounded by a thicket of gorse shielded by tall ungrazed grass it was a good lookout.

The thick, tall mats of Kikuyu grass covered the steep valley side. A pasture, abandoned and left fallow. Sheep ridges remained and the top such ridge was pressed right up against the side of the bush. A number eight wire and barb fence sagged into the gorse and manuka. The stealthy lookouts peered through the grass with the scopes on their rifles. 

Winding its way up the side of the steep, round-topped hills across the valley was a dirt and gravel quad bike path. It traversed the side of the distant hill, following the curve of yet more sheep ridges. Thick bush of more manuka, but also some tall punga ferns spilled down the vee of the hills and separated the two women from what they watched. 

The sweat that sheened the foreheads of the two women was not purely from the heat. Both women were struggling with high emotions. Brie was fighting the urge to close the breach of her rifle, a muscle ticked on her jaw. Jen was battling mixed feelings of anxiety, anger and curiosity. She pushed her platinum hair back off her forehead, a movement that was more of a habit than a necessity since it had grown past the point of flopping into her eyes. 

“Give me another look?”  
Brie shook her head, “They aren’t going anywhere.”  
“What are they doing now?”  
“Same as before,” the older women frowned. “Oh, nope, they are coming down off the track now.”  
“Seriously?! They couldn’t have smelt us. Could they?” Jen cast her eyes up to edges of the low, bushy manuka. No wind stirred the white fluff of tiny flower petals and dark green leaves.  
She gathered her arms under her and risked a glimpse over the screen of grass. The pack of vaguely dog-like creatures were still milling backwards and forwards along the track. Although the thing they feared the most was now coming down the steep slope, bounding agility, but slowly from one ridge of grass to the next. Jen froze for a moment watching. The thing was scanning the ground as it went. A frisson of fear skittered down the tall woman’s back. Had she and Brie been down that way? What about the other’s, had they scouted or hunted in this area? 

She thought suddenly of her younger brother. At only 18 he was impulsive, angry at what had happened and being spoilt by her stepmother all his life hadn’t helped either. However she loved him to a fault, and he was as loyal to her as it is possible to be. Jason looked up to his older half-sister with a fierce, protective love that bordered on hero worship. But he was his own person and was prone lately to wander off without a buddy, picking fights and sulking when he determined that Jen was paying Brie or her other close friends more attention than him. 

It was entirely possible that he could have wandered as far as this farm, looking for a glimpse of Coromandel Town and the camp there. And come to think of it, the last game he had brought in had been a sheep. 

“Give me a look, Brie!” Jen hissed in a stage whisper. “Or at least tell me what he is doing!”  
Brie raised an eyebrow. “It’s not a 'he', Jen. And it’s looking around and coming down towards the bottom of the hill. I can still see it above the bush line.”  
“Has it seen something? Tracks?”  
Brie sucked in a breath. “Please tell me Jason has not been out here.” It was said calmly, but Brie was always calm, except when it came to the creatures of course.  
“He brought a sheep back, last time he was out.”  
Brie was already packing up her gun. “Let's fucking get out of here then.” Her hands were fast and sure as she unloaded the magazine, flicked on the safety, and slung the rifle back over her shoulder, even as she began wriggling back towards the thick gorse.

Jen couldn’t help but peep up, one last time, over the sunny valley. The black-clad creature was gone. His dogs were starting to follow him down towards the bush. The mottled creatures switched often between two legs and four, sniffed the grass and snapped at each other with long drooling muzzles as they went. She shivered and swiftly gathered her long limbs and crawled after Brie under the gorse. They had painstakingly hacked their way through the thick bramble of needle-like leaves weeks ago, helped by a goat or a pig, long since fled. The tunnel was by no means clear of thorns and the scratches and punctures on their arms and hands were re-pricked. Jen’s near white hair was continuously snagged by fingers of gorse, whereas the much shorter salt and pepper of Brie’s remained unscathed.

The gorse finally gave out into manuka and punga. Dry ferns and prickly small bushes filled whatever space left between trees. A narrow path led them onwards. Occasional pine trees, escaped from cultivation cleared the undergrowth with their toxic red needles, and knobbly grey roots. This came as a relief and speed the flight of the two women. They conversed tersely when they had the breath for it, as the terrain continued up into the coromandel ranges. 

“They are searching in earnest now.” Brie kept her voice low. Despite the distance between them and the creatures.  
“Do you think they can find our tracks?” Jen was rapidly losing her curiosity to fear.  
“Yes, they are fucking obvious. We can double round and check the field from the other spot.”

They had a second look out with a more limited view of the same field. This one also gave a hazy glimpse over the turquoise waters of the Firth of Thames in summer. This spot was easier to get to, but involved more risk. There was no screening bushes or grass to hide in. Just an opening in between pine trees and an outcrop of grey, stepped volcanic rock, with grass and moss sprouting from various crannies and nooks. 

Brie and Jen crept the last few metres on their bellies until they could just see the still gloriously sunny valley below. The sun blinded Jen for a moment and for a moment she felt that the summer had been one great oxymoron. One giant joke. The bright sun pointed its finger and the cicadas loudly mocked her dark fear. 

Beside her, Brie let out a quiet breath of relief. “They haven’t crossed the valley.”  
Jen blinked the sun out of her eyes and could glimpse tiny black figures creeping along the quad bike track again.  
“They are working their way up into the ranges, though.”  
Brie’s only reply was a short hum of disapproval. She had the rifle in front of her again.  
“I could take it. What’s the range?”  
Jen pulled the rangefinder from the leg pocket of her army surplus pants. “400 meters, Brie. If you miss he’ll be after us for sure.”  
“I don’t, and it’s an 'it', don’t humanise them.”  
“What about it’s armour then.”  
“True.” 

They had long since noticed that it took far too many shots to take down one of the invaders. This observation came from when there had been an army to defend them. Now the only remaining free army consisted of Brie, her twin sister Audre, three of her squad, and an American stranded on holiday. Although th American certainly didn’t seem like any soldier Jen knew. This much-reduced fighting force hadn’t taken a shot all summer. Mainly because nobody had dared to get close enough to Coromandel Town to take a look. 

Now that they did have an invader in their scope, they remembered the body armour. Helmeted and with light plate everywhere but the joints, all in mat black. Menacing as a nightmare and not quite human. Too tall, and with clawed black talons instead of feet. There were rumors they had tails, although Jen hadn’t believed it until earlier today. Some sort of mutant gone wild, a super soldier developed in a test tube or perhaps it was all a disguise. The helmet didn’t help with identification. It was as smooth as a motorcycle helmet and completely opaque.

“Come on, let’s get back. I want to check if Jason is alright.”  
Brie nodded and slung the rifle back over her shoulder before wriggling backwards off the rock and into the bush again. 

Chapter 2 - Decisions  
The usual argument ensued. Jen; anxious and underslept, Jason; bored and underfed. Usually they got along and in the quiet moments after a meal or early in the morning, they did. However, all Jen had achieved was to drive the moody teenager off into the woods.

Giving vent to her frustration she kicked the heavy pot they had balanced over the cold fire pit and then hunched over her bare foot in pain. “Fucking teenagers!”  
Her temper tantrum was met by mixed emotions. Amusement from Brie’s squad and her twin sister Audre. Anger from Brie herself and a variety of anxious whispers at the noise she was making from the three other women in the group. Besides Audre, the three wormen and Jen the only other civilian, an American, wasn’t around to ignore her.

“Will you give up hen pecking that boy?” It was Anna. Plump, although how she maintained it Jen wasn’t sure, attractive, but dirty, just like the rest of them. She had a loud laugh before all this happened. Now she rarely spoke above a murmur. Jen had attended school in Whitianga with her. A small town on the east side of the Coromandel peninsula, the school had catered for all ages. Jen had known Anna all her life and had never gotten along with her. They made an effort at it now, due to proximity, but neither women really understood the other. 

Anna righted the pot and started scraping ashes and stray twigs into the fire pit as if Jen had created the mess herself. Jen left her too it. Sometimes it seemed as though the other woman was trying to pick a fight. She joined Brie’s squad. They were sitting in a huddle on some logs pine logs pulled into the clearing. The small group had taken to using pine plantations as their base, mainly because they had less undergrowth than the native bush. 

They were discussing the sighting. Max pulled her down next to him and tucked an arm around her shoulders.  
“Don’t let the little shit get to you, aye?” he said. Max, the ringleader of the three. Handsome, with a cheeky, shit stirring grin. He and Francis were like peas in a pod. Had known each other since they were boys in Auckland, same rhythm to their speech, same haircut, both big strong men.  
Lini smiled from across the little circle. “He’ll be alright. Cheer up, girl.” The big Samoan was the odd one out in the group. He was fearsome in appearance, but described himself as “a lover not a fighter, aye”. He was soft spoken when he spoke at all and was crushingly shy when Jen first met him. The other two men teased him unmercifully, but he seemed to enjoy the banter, just smiling with his head ducked and occasionally boxing one or both of them around the ears.  
Jen smiled and leaned over to pat him on the knee. “Thanks, Lini.”

Brie cleared her throat and the squad came to attention, not in a strict military manner, but the joking and fighting fell away. It was suddenly clear that these men where military and that Brie had their full respect as squad lead.  
She began, “We scouted as far as the gorse lookout. From their we spotted one of the invaders accompanied by six dogs.”  
No one interrupted, but their was a collective intake of breath. Jen was suddenly aware of the rest of the camp listening in.  
Brie continued, “They were heading east along a quad bike trail deeper into the farm. They were scouting either side of the track. We didn’t observe them find anything. We are fairly confident that our scent wasn’t carried across the valley to them. We observed them again from the high rock lookout. They are moving fast and were almost out of sight towards the top of the valley.  
Would anyone like to make a suggestion or comment at this point?”  
Brie had the trust of the group for exactly this quality. Something Jen longed to learn from her. Before making any decision or assumption she would stop and ask. It was probably the only reason that the little band of 11 had held together so long. Everyone felt listened to and respected, but in the end Brie made the final call. All personal conflict between group members was moot at that point.

“We should get over the range to Whitianga already!” said Kat. She was the most vocal of the civilian women and to Jen, the most irritating. She suspected a lot of the group felt the same way as Kat’s suggestions were never headed and Francis would occasionally make a sarcastic gripe at her. Jen tried to remember that Kat had been through a lot, but counting to ten didn’t always help, and she was also guilty of losing her rag at the middle aged lady.  
Kat took the ten seconds it before someone shut her down and made the most of it.  
“Why are we still here!? We all know Coromandel Town will be as empty as the rest before long. Why can’t we just go check the east side!? I know it will be safer. They must have given up-”  
“Kat, that sounds like a marvelous suggestion, we will have to give it more thought in a minute. I have an idea as well, may I share it?” Thank god for Audre, Jen didn’t know where she got her patience, but she always knew exactly how to shut Kat up.  
Kat murmured that of course she could, and Audre mentioned a few concerns about noise and the use of torches. 

Audre was all the softness her sister had missed out on. She had the same dark hair prematurely streaked with grey, but she wore it long and it seemed to soften her square features. She backed Brie up to the hilt and provided all the reassurance and coaching the group needed to do the same. Even after recognising the role Audre was playing, Jen still found herself going to the older woman for advice when she worried about the direction Brie was taking them. 

The false sense of security was broken suddenly by the arrival of the American.  
“They are marching the camp out,” he said.  
As usual the man was calm and without emotion. They hadn’t seen him in days, and just like the times before, no one had expected his return. 

 

Note - brie’s team know about the bunker. Jen, jason, Kat, Charlie, anna and the american do not. 

When they meet the invader  
He left his pack mates and the mind bond. Which means he is gradually getting more and more confused and delirious - migraine like symptoms followed by convulsions and death or survival.  
Days without food or water.  
They see him looking ill - omg moment - they decide to capture.  
They do.  
Jen is somehow bonded to Red. called red because his hair is red brown. They have no names for each other because of the mind bond. They call eachother names out most potent characteristic if they don’t know each other.  
She is in his head for a moment - and can empathise with him after that even tho the bond doesn’t work.  
After that moment red is obsessed with her. He is captive so cannot go back but he needs a bond to survive and Jen is his only hope.  
They capture but only after fight with dogs. Dogs are trained to protect but they had ranged wide due to lack of direction from red.


	2. Lookout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our group of survivors goes for an adventure. We meet Edward - for a short while.

The usual argument ensued. Jen; anxious and underslept, Jason; bored and underfed. Usually they got along and in the quiet moments after a meal or early in the morning, they did. However, all Jen had achieved was to drive the moody teenager off into the woods.

Giving vent to her frustration she kicked the heavy pot they had balanced over the cold fire pit and then hunched over her bare foot in pain. “Fucking teenagers!”  
Her temper tantrum was met with mixed emotions. Amusement from Brie’s squad and her twin sister Audre. Anger from Brie herself and a variety of anxious whispers at the noise she was making from the three other women in the group. Besides Audre, the three women and Jen the only other civilian, an American, wasn’t around to ignore her.

“Will you give up hen pecking that boy?” It was Anna. Plump, although how she maintained it Jen wasn’t sure, attractive, but dirty, just like the rest of them. She had a loud laugh before all this happened. Now she rarely spoke above a murmur. Jen had attended school in Whitianga with her. A small town on the east side of the Coromandel peninsula, the school had catered for all ages. Jen had known Anna all her life and had never gotten along with her. They made an effort at it now, due to proximity, but neither women really understood the other. 

Anna righted the pot and started scraping ashes and stray twigs into the fire pit as if Jen had created the mess herself. Jen left her too it. Sometimes it seemed as though the other woman was trying to pick a fight. She joined Brie’s squad. They were sitting in a huddle on some logs pine logs pulled into the clearing. The small group had taken to using pine plantations as their base, mainly because they had less undergrowth than the native bush. 

They were discussing the sighting. Max pulled her down next to him and tucked an arm around her shoulders.  
“Don’t let the little shit get to you, aye?” he said. Max, the ringleader of the three. Handsome, with a cheeky, shit stirring grin. He and Francis were like peas in a pod. Had known each other since they were boys in Auckland, same rhythm to their speech, same haircut, both big strong men.  
Lini smiled from across the little circle. “He’ll be alright. Cheer up, girl.” The big Samoan was the odd one out in the group. He was fearsome in appearance, but described himself as “a lover not a fighter, aye”. He was soft spoken when he spoke at all and was crushingly shy when Jen first met him. The other two men teased him unmercifully, but he seemed to enjoy the banter, just smiling with his head ducked and occasionally boxing one or both of them around the ears.  
Jen smiled and leaned over to pat him on the knee. “Thanks, Lini.”

Brie cleared her throat and the squad came to attention, not in a strict military manner, but the joking and fighting fell away. It was suddenly clear that these men were military and that Brie had their full respect as squad lead.  
She began, “We scouted as far as the gorse lookout. From there we spotted one of the invaders accompanied by six dogs.”  
No one interrupted, but there was a collective intake of breath. Jen was suddenly aware of the rest of the camp listening in.  
Brie continued, “They were heading east along a quad bike trail deeper into the farm. They were scouting either side of the track. We didn’t observe them find anything. We are fairly confident that our scent wasn’t carried across the valley to them. We observed them again from the high rock lookout. They are moving fast and were almost out of sight towards the top of the valley.  
Would anyone like to make a suggestion or comment at this point?”  
Brie had the trust of the group for exactly this quality. Something Jen longed to learn from her. Before making any decision or assumption she would stop and ask. It was probably the only reason that the little band of 11 had held together so long. Everyone felt listened to and respected, but in the end, Brie made the final call. All personal conflict between group members was moot at that point.

“We should get over the range to Whitianga already!” said Kat. She was the most vocal of the civilian women and to Jen, the most irritating. She suspected a lot of the group felt the same way as Kat’s suggestions were never headed and Francis would occasionally make a sarcastic gripe at her. Jen tried to remember that Kat had been through a lot, but counting to ten didn’t always help and she was also guilty of losing her rag at the middle aged lady.  
Kat took the ten seconds it before someone shut her down and made the most of it.  
“Why are we still here!? We all know Coromandel Town will be as empty as the rest before long. Why can’t we just go check the east side!? I know it will be safer. They must have given up-”  
“Kat, that sounds like a marvelous suggestion, we will have to give it more thought in a minute. I have an idea as well, may I share it?” Thank god for Audre, Jen didn’t know where she got her patience, but she always knew exactly how to shut Kat up.  
Kat murmured that of course she could, and Audre mentioned a few concerns about noise and the use of torches. 

Audre was all the softness her sister had missed out on. She had the same dark hair prematurely streaked with grey, but she wore it long and it seemed to soften her square features. She backed Brie up to the hilt and provided all the reassurance and coaching the group needed to do the same. Even after recognising the role Audre was playing, Jen still found herself going to the older woman for advice when she worried about the direction Brie was taking them. 

Before the group could move on the false sense of security was broken suddenly by the arrival of the American.  
“They are marching the camp out,” he said.  
As usual, the man was calm and without emotion. They hadn’t seen him in days, and just like the times before, no one had expected his return.  
His announcement was met by a cacophony of questions, all of which he ignored. He scanned the small group with a calculating eye, no doubt noting all changes, weaknesses and updating his opinions of them. Jen couldn’t help, but shiver when his light, reptilian eyes swept over her. They knew almost nothing about him, apart from his accent, his military like set of skill and what he looked like. Sandy blond hair in a military cut, battered black motorcycle jacket, and those pale, ice coloured eyes. 

Brie managed to pull order from the chaos and soon everyone was resolved to sneak down to have a look. The squad had been reluctant to bring the civilians, excluding Jen and Audre, but all three women had kicked up such a fuss that they had agreed, partly to shut them up. Now, three hours later, with the sun starting to slide slowly down towards the horizon Jen was solidly regretting it. So was Brie by the set of her jaw. The women, particularly Kat and Charlie, were utterly useless. Kat complained about her knees until Lini pulled her not inconsiderable middle-aged bulk into a piggy back. Charlie, while much younger was so skinny and tired that Max also ended up with a female backpack. Jen wasn’t sympathetic. Charlie was so picky with her food, it was her own fault. There was enough to go around, but Charlie would often waste it. Jen had come across rotten venison or mutton on the periphery of the camp. It could have gone to Jason who had grown an inch in the last month and hadn’t filled half as much. 

Jason hadn’t shown up before they left. They had called for him, but had been reluctant to do so too loudly. Jen had only become anxious once she noticed that the American was also missing. There was no reason to worry. The quiet man had never posed a threat to anyone, heck, Francis lost his temper far more often, but there was something about the blond foreigner that rubbed her the wrong way. They had left Jason a note, pinned under one of the rocks ringing the camp fire. He would hopefully stay put until they got back.

The bush didn’t end abruptly. The larger trees and ferns slowly gave way to scrubby manuka and pittosporums. The going got harder. It had been steep before, but at least there were large trees to cling too. Now small branches and twigs snapped against their arms and faces, grabbing at their hair and clothes, long sharp grasses twisted their ankles and drove seeds into their socks and skin.  
Finally, they were on open farmland. Now the chances of being spotted from the air were at their most critical, but at least they could walk freely. It had been weeks since Jen had been out on the farmland during the day. Usually they left it until the dark to scout the small villages on the coast for food, blankets, clothes and tools. They never went much closer than this to Coromandel Town, and They hadn’t gone closer to the base of the peninsula since That Night.

Now they had reached the edge of the ridge closest to the town. Everyone was tense. They crept the last few metres on their stomachs. Brie in the lead and the least competent members of the group relegated to the back where they could be controlled in case they did something stupid.  
The town was crawling with activity. Cars and trucks, commandeered from the populace and the invaders own high-tech military aircrafts were everywhere. People were marched by soldiers, some of the soldiers were even human, Jen saw with a shock when she finally managed to get a go with the binoculars. Again she had a sense of unreality, lying among the gently waving grass and wildflowers, with the cicadas buzzing and the wind blowing through her hair, cooling the dampness on the back of her neck and under her arms.  
A steady stream of vehicles could be seen leaving down the one main road and towards Thames along the coast. The road over the ranges was deserted, Jen noted with relief. Perhaps there would be more survivors on the East side. Perhaps even a whole village or town had been missed. 

“We’re leaving.” Brie whispered the order suddenly, but everyone realised their foolishness instantly.  
Jen hurriedly but the cap back on the binoculars and wriggled down from the skyline. They could have been spotted, and then it would have been over. The invaders would have caught their trail easily. The group could have run for a few days. Maybe fought for a few more if they had have found a defensible position. But despite their growing knowledge of the terrain and the bushes protection from above, the hunt would have been child's play. The disturbing dog like creatures could sent track like nothing else, and the invaders were far more nimble, far faster and had endurance that far outstipped even the strongest members of the squad. 

Even Kat and Charlie put in effort that had Jen’s grudging respect as they fled the open fields. They used trees along hedge lines, and small patches of scrub to their advantage and soon were battling their way back into the undergrowth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edwards point of view coming up next. And after that we may even get to spot another "invader".   
> Gosh! Sorry about the slow start, so much character building.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes pov Edward. Creepy stalking. Teenagers being moody. Watching from a distance. Disturbing thoughts and actions regarding murder and confused feelings.

The American slipped away from the rest of the group easily. The bush was dense, everyone was busy looking at their feet to avoid tripping and falling down the steep slope. Zachery simply fell behind and then sat and waited for them to all disappear into the trees. He wondered at how easily they had all forgotten about the boy. He sat and listened to the forest for a minute longer and then stood. Balancing easily on long legs, clad in blue jeans. He looked up the slope back the way they had come and then cut a line across the slope. He walked quietly, his heavy boots occasionally slipped in the thick carpet of dead leaves and tree roots. There were many branches and fern trunks to grab, and sometimes he used them. 

He was thinking longingly of the open conifer forests of America when his head snapped around suddenly and he stilled completely, deer like, eerily still. He could hear someone up hill in the bush. Very slowly he pulled the brim of his baseball cap down to shade his face, and then tucked his hands into his pockets. He then listened quietly, as still as a cat watching a mouse. 

The boy, Jason, crunched loudly down the hill and passed mere metres from the quiet watchful American. A quiet smirk twitched the corner of Zachary's lip. The only movement he made until Jason was out of site. The boy hadn’t seen him. All of them amateurs. He followed, even more quietly now. Stalking. 

He was hot in the motorcycle jacket, but hadn’t taken it off yet, due to the gun, gleaming black with oil, that sat in the under arm holster against his ribs. None of the fools he traveled with had spotted it yet. Even though on several occasions he had bathed in the trickling rivers that dotted the ranges. None of them had thought to follow him. Not that he would have put up with that.

The boy had changed direction and now cut across the slope towards pine forest. Zachary would have to be even more careful. Good thing he knew pine better than this native mess. He started to feel a familiar thrill and was surprised by it. He had found himself critically bored since he had been dumped in this mess. His last hit had been easy, a rich idiot who thought he was safe in New Zealand. Not that he could have done anything about it, but Zach now bitterly regretted coming to this tiny island. He felt trapped. Tightly, chaffingly trapped. 

This boy was a break in the monologue of his life. Zack was intrigued although he couldn’t put a finger on why, and he had never interested in someone who wasn’t a hit. This wasn’t necessarily a good situation for Jason to be in. But Jason had no idea he was being followed, he hadn’t noticed the American particularly out of the rest of the group. That would change. 

Jason was angry. Angry at Jen, who had blindly assumed that he had been where he shouldn’t have been. Angry at the invaders for trapping him here in the ranges, where he couldn’t speak to his friends, or Thomas, who he desperately missed. He tramped through the bush. Loudly snapping twigs, crushing leaves, slipping on twisted smooth roots. He almost rolled an ankle and stumbled on, the pain only making him angrier. 

He didn’t notice the creeping wrath following him. Even in the open pine forest, he neglected to look behind him. Zachary flitted from tree to tree. Silent where Jason was loud. 

He was heading to the crest of this ridge. There, part of the pine forest had been cleared. The dirt road was like an open wound in the forest, the felled trees like stubble. You could see for miles, all we way down to the coast. He had sat up there a few times, and it always brought him some measure of peace. He wasn’t fated to travel that far today. 

For some reason or other Jason glanced back through the trees. He saw nothing, but the dark of the distant forest and the pillars of bark stretching into the distance. All the same, he was suddenly more aware of his surroundings and for the first time realised how alone he was. He could hear the wind in the tops of the trees, they creaked and moaned. The birds were quiet. Even the cicadas seemed muted. Nothing thrived in this soil, buried under toxic needles before it could emerge. 

Suddenly a thrumming of sound, a bird burst from cover and battered the air around his Jason’s head. He almost cried out. And stopped walking for a moment to calm his stuttering heart. He laughed aloud to try and dispel the fright.   
“Only a damn Tui!” His voice seemed to be swallowed by the looming forest and he instantly regretted making the noise. 

He spun around looking more closely into the trees. Why was he so anxious? Something was wrong. He made the decision to head back. He even took one step in the right direction when he spotted the American. Cold fear washed down his back. Jason’s vision seemed to zoom into the black, heavy gun pointed in his direction. 

A crack! The gun recoiled in the hands of the American. Jason threw himself backwards, coming down hard enough to knock the wind from himself. He immediately struggled up onto his elbows and looked frantically back. A deer, hidden behind a tree, had burst into frenzied flight. It staggered. Leapt into the air and then fell. It twitched and then spasmed violently. 

There was a ringing in Jason’s ears. He saw the American come smoothly to his feet and then seem to glide towards him. The world was in slow motion. He scrambled backwards. Keeping his eyes firmly on the man. The American grinned and offered him a hand up.   
“What the fuck, man!?” Jason said, a boiling rage descended as his fear subsided. “You could have killed me!”  
“You’re right. Help me gut this deer,” he said and offered Jason a wicked looking hunting knife.   
Jason started and almost swayed backwards before he got himself under control. He wondered where the hell the man pulled the knife from.   
Somewhere between confusion, fear, and anger, he forced himself to reach for the knife. The American held it for a moment too long. Just long enough for Jason to meet his eyes. They were a clear light blue, and they sent a jolt of intense feeling through the younger man. Fear, yes, but somewhere in the American’s expression Jason sensed a sharp excitement that was contagious. He shivered and looked away, towards the dead dear. 

Blood had trickled over its brown speckled pelt. Far less of it than Jason was expecting. The American had grabbed the head of the animal and was now looking at him expectantly. The blue eyes drilled into him and he walked forwards like a puppet, heart hammering, and blood rushed inexplicably to his checks. Why was he embarrassed?   
“Cut her throat,” the American said and then waited.   
Jason hovered nervously, not sure where to cut. He knelt. The older man was now close. Their knees brushed, their elbows knocked. The American pulled the head of the dear back completely.  
“Cut at the base of the jaw.”   
Jason put the knife to the extended, cream coloured neck. It was at an awkward angle from the body, broken where the bullet had smashed its way through. He cut hesitantly, and the knife sliced through a thin layer of skin as if it was wet paper.   
“Cut hard. Right through to the spine.”  
Jason faltered. The deer looked at him. It’s tongue lolled from its delicate mouth. It’s small black nose reminded him of his first pet dog. But he felt compelled to prove himself to this strange quiet man. The American represented all that was strong and sure in this new strange world. Jason wanted to be that. 

He cut. The skin broke and warm pink flesh was revealed. And then blood. But again far less.  
“Her heart isn’t beating,” the American said.   
Cartilage. It grated against the knife and the windpipe of the little Hind yawned at him. He could smell the body. Warm, ripe, bitter. He cut further and hit bone. A new smell.   
“That’s her esophagus,” the blond man said, “we’ll need to tie it.” 

He took the knife from Jason, and his hand was warm from the heat of the deer. Jason sagged back, suddenly shaking. His teeth chattered. He felt tears pricking at his eyes.   
He was relieved when the American took over the rest of the gutting. But he made himself watch closely. The man occasionally explained. His forearms rippled red. Just when Jason felt sick to his stomach, the man rose and placed the heart in a crook of a tree. 

Jason used the moment to get to his feet and step back. His legs were stiff from kneeling. The deer was gutted. It’s legs twisted into a backpack. He felt sick, sad and still wildly apprehensive about the man he was with. But he had forgotten all about his fight with his sister and his worry about Thomas. He had lived in the moment, something that he had been unable to do since the start of the invasion. The last hour, for all of its wildness, had been strangely soothing for him.

Then the American made him carry the deer back. And he was back to brooding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up.. We see more of the invaders!

**Author's Note:**

> This is only a first chapter to test the waters! If I get an interest I will keep posting up here. Sorry for the lack of fan fiction! I seriously had to scrape the bottom of the barrel to fit a character in there :P
> 
> Let me know if there are any errors and if anyone would like to beta, that would be suuuuper awesome!!
> 
> Also, this is my own work so Copywrite applies! Please do not plagiarise any of this :) I have evidence of creation etc.  
> And of course, the character Edward is owned by Laurell K. Hamilton.


End file.
